LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

%Ii. - iojBjrigl^ :|n. 

Shelf .PS./.47^ 
^7 

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



THE SOWER 



:^ f oem 



By AUGUSTUS CURREY 



ILLUSTRATED 




NOV 29 1884p 



DETROIT, MICH. 
RIVERSIDE PUBLISHING COMPANY 

4 Lafayette Street 



C.7 



Copyright, I884, 
By Augustus Currey. 



All rights reserved. 



2intl)cr3ttg }0rrss : 
John Wilson and Son, Cambridge. 



THIS SIMPLE VERSION 

OF 

THE BEAUTIFUL PARABLE 



IS DEDICATED 

TO 

ail \o\)o Gieaorfe for (Sooti 



©estgncti anB IBraiun fag 

TRUE WILLIAMS, 

UNDER WHOSE SUPERVISION THEY WERE ENGRAVED. 



The Sower 3 

Vignette (Titlepage) 5 

" At the dawn of day, before the sun " 17 

" He fell, and smiling in His slumber, slept the sleep of death " . . . 19 

"And children laughed to see the barrens grow" 21 

"Till fairer fields eyes never looked upon" 23 

" 'Dead is the Sower,' said the toiling men" 25 

" Bear down our garners with their weight of gold " 25 

"Yet, as God wills it, other hands may reap; but angels hold" ... 27 

"Behold, the sun is darkened at the wrong" 27 

" Not dead, but risen, — new-born and perfected " 29 

Ascending Angel 31 



THE SOWER. 



'PORTH went the Sower at the dawn of day, 

Before the sun, 
Down the long level where the night fogs lay, 
Up the steep hillside, scattering on His way, 
And one by one, 

The amber jewels o'er the fertile land. 

From side to side. 
Fraught with God's goodness; when the south-wind fanned 
The slumbering acres, they should all expand. 

And good be multiplied. 

For Him there came no nooning, as He pressed 

His errand on ; 
Climbing with patience up the stony crest, 
Plodding the valley, with no hope of rest 

Till day was done. 

When, as the sun sank low, and longer shadows crept, 

At dark'ning eventide, 
He fell, and smiling in His slumber, slept 
The sleep of death, while angels kindly kept 

Watch. o'er the fields He planted ere He died. 



And lo ! at springtime, from the fading snow, 

Leaped blades of green; 
And children laughed to see the barrens grow 
To hills of beauty in the summer's glow ; 

And set between 

Wide stretching valleys, where the ripening grain. 

Turning to gold. 
Waved its bright lances on the peaceful plain, 
Telling life's story : How through toil and pain 

The good is multiplied a thousandfold. 

Dead was the Sower ; but the grain grew on 

And ripened in the heat, 
Till fairer fields eyes never looked upon, 
When walked the reapers with their cradles drawn. 

And at their feet 

Laid the long lines of golden carpet down 

On every side, — 
The blessed gift of One whose hands had sown, 
Till night set in, and then, aweary grown. 

Had, resting, died. 

'• Dead is the Sower," said the toiling men 

At summer eves ; 
" Had He but lived to see the harvest, surely then 
No happier mortal could have ever been. 

These many sheaves 

"Bear down our garners with their weight of gold; 

Each drooping head 
But speaks the truth which sainted lips have told : 
Who soweth well may reap an hundredfold, 

Thouiih he be dead. 



"Yet, as God wills it, other hands may reap; 

But angels hold 
Some precious portion, bearing up the steep 
To heaven's domain, His good they watchful keep, 

His sheaves of gold." 

" Dead is the Sower," said the weeping throng 

On Calvary's side. 
" Behold, the sun is darkened at the wrong. 
And hides his face, as he doth move along. 

Before the Crucified.'' 

" Dead is the Sower," mourning women said. 

The tomb beside ; 
But angels cheering words of comfort spread : 
"Not dead, but risen, — new-born and perfected, 
And glorified." 

Dead is the Sower ! Never yet was grave 

So deep or wide, 
So strong or guarded, that it held the brave. 
Great soul of one who, laboring, sought to save, 

And vet was crucified. 





|{\yiLli weiiL llie bower El the dawn of day, 
<^ Before the sun, ^ 

Down the long level where the night fogs lay. 
Up the steep hillside, scattering on His, 

^£^ And one by one, ^ 

The amber jewels o'er the fertile land. 

From side to side, 
Fraught with God's goodness; when the south- 
wind fanned, ^^^ 
The slumbering acres, they should all expand, 

And good be multiplied. 





£S5^c^ 




For Him there came no nooning, as He pressed 

His errand on; 
Climbing witli patience up the stony erest, 
Plodding the valley, with no hope of rest 

Till day was done 




^J3 




,Wide^ stretching valleys, where the ripening 

grain, X -^ 

Turning to gold,' 

Waved its bright lanees on the peaceful plain, 

Telling life's story: How through toil and pain 

The good is multiplied a thousandfold. -^ 



n 




s*** 



^ ^M 



\ >S 



m 



.r"-' 



1/ /Laid the long lines.of golden earpet down 

/''v\^'''/ On" every side-~^-^'''^'" ^ '" ~ 

The blessed gift of One whose hands had sown, 



cr 



yr'^^^Iz^-A^ Till night set in, and then, aweary grown, 
^*^ "- -S-'^S^Zi v^"~" Had rpqfin.o- Hifid ^-^ -,,.r.'. 



Had, resting, died. 



^\x4; -X. 



^^v 



t2 





"Dead is the Sower," said the toiUng men 

At summer eves; 
" Had he but hved to see the harvest, surely 

then 
No happier mortal eould have ever been. 

These many sheaves 

t ^ 
" Bear down our garners with their ^^weight of 
gold; _ •, :■•--, ^' 
Each drooping head, 
But speaks the truth which sainted lips have 

told; 
Who soweth well may reap an hundredfold. 
Though he be dead 







" Dead is the Sower," mourning Yvomen said, 

The tomb beside; 
But angels cheering words of comfort spread , 
" Not dead, but risen-new-born and perfected. 

And glorified." ^-^ 

Dead is the Sower! Never yet was grave 

So deep or wide. 
So strong or guarded, that it held the brave, 
Great soul of one who, laboring, sought to save, 

And yet was crucified. 
-A 





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